


Nothing More, Nothing Less

by Sleepz



Category: Jak and Daxter
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:45:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepz/pseuds/Sleepz
Summary: The Precursors may have given him his powers, but they sure as hell weren't going to teach him how to use them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well...here we go! It's been a while since I've written fanfiction, but I was playing Jak 3 again and couldn't help myself. Happy reading!

Of course Jak wasn't going to die like a normal person.

He couldn't die of heatstroke in the desert, no, that would be too easy. Too mundane. He couldn't be eaten by metalheads or fall into lava. That was too glamorous a death.

No, Jak was going to die of _the fucking flu._

It had started in the desert, during a scavenger mission with Sig, when he wasn't feeling well—nausea, headache, feeling hot. Jak eventually had to pull over and vomit out the passenger side while Sig drove.

It only got worse once they reached Spargus. Jak was so dizzy that Sig had to support him with one arm. He was practically dragging the boy, half unconscious. The world was going in and out, his friends' voices weaving throughout the noise of the desert city. He struggled to stay on his feet, eventually giving up and just letting them drag on the ground as Sig pulled him forward.

"Hey." Sig shook him gently. "If I drop you off at the palace, you gonna be okay?"

"…Yeah," Jak croaked. "Just need some water."

Sig clearly didn't believe him, but he just made a noise in his throat and hauled Jak onto the lift. It rumbled to life and took them up to the throne room.

Damas was sitting on his throne, glaring at a map as if it had insulted his parentage. He looked up when the trio entered the room. "Ah. You're back, good. I was getting worried, I think a storm might be coming soon." He inhaled sharply. "Is Jak…?"

Damas eyed the teenager. He was pale and shaking, odd for the usually steady Jak. "What happened?" he asked Sig.

Sig dropped Jak beside the pool, where he laid his head back against the stone pillar. Daxter reached down and started to cup water in his hands, urging his friend to drink.

"Dunno," Sig said grimly. "But it's getting worse. In the hour long drive back to the city, he threw up a bunch and then practically passed out on me." Sig nodded to the king. "Any monks around to help him?"

Damas frowned. "Not at the moment. They're all at the Temple right now, meditating in seclusion."

He walked over to where Jak was now pressing his flushed cheek against the pillar. Damas reached down and pressed the back of his fingers to the Jak's forehead. His frown deepened.

"What?" Daxter asked. "What now?"

"He's hot to the touch." Damas swept a lock of the boy's hair back, where it clung to the side of his face. "Do you see? He's sweating like an animal."

"Heat stroke?" Sig suggested. Damas shook his head. "What's wrong with him?"

"Sickness," Damas said simply. "A fever brought on this suddenly is never good. He didn't seem any different from normal before he set out."

"Jak? Jak, are you gonna die?" Daxter wailed and shook his friend's collar. "Oh, the humanity! Who will make me lunch now?!"

"…Ugh…" Jak's eyes rolled and he closed them again. Daxter let out a loud, melodramatic cry.

"Knock it off, furball," Sig ordered. "Jak'll be fine, he just needs some rest. Right, Damas?" Damas was still frowning, which only worried Sig more. "You think he needs a medic?"

"Sig. Take him to Ionna." Damas' voice was low and grim. "It could subside, but I'd rather not take the chance. She'll be able to help him."

"Got it." Sig glanced down. "Uh…I guess I'll have to carry him."

"Hey! Why don't you just get this lady to come up here to help him?" Daxter snapped. Damas' frown turned into a twisted snarl. "Heh heh…just a suggestion, Your Sandiness."

"…Ionna will not come to the palace at my beck and call," he responded. "She has other Wastelanders to attend to, many of whom require almost constant care. Get moving."

Sig heaved Jak up into his arms, surprised by how light the kid was. Sure, Jak had never been a big guy, but he felt like a child in Sig's arms. Daxter climbed up to sit on Jak's chest.

"Check back here to update me on his condition once she takes a look at him," Damas directed. Sig nodded as he stepped onto the lift. The last thing he saw before he left the palace was Damas staring after him, a strange kind of concern on his face.

* * *

The world was a swirling mess of darkness and light.

Jak wasn't sure what was real and what was in his mind. He was certain that his eyes were open, but his vision kept fading in and out, swirling around him like a dream.

He was moving, he thought, or maybe it just seemed that way. Hazy voices drifted through the fog, murmurs about monks and water. There were also some ghostly voices, whispering as they spoke of eco and prophecies and sages and…

…and everything went dark again.

* * *

The medic center that Ionna ran was a tiny place in the wall of Spargus. Beds lined the main room, with thin curtains that gave the patient a bit of privacy. There was a long counter, with a stone basin in it and a water pump beside it. Sig had been there a few times for some of his nastier encounters with metalheads, as well as once when he'd had some trouble sleeping.

"Sig, surprised to see you." The voice that floated through the room was soft and clear. "Not hurt again, I hope?"

"Not me." Sig grimaced and set Jak down in one of the empty beds. Daxter anxiously hovered on the edge, his head whipping between the two. "Jak here is sick. Anything you can do to help?"

The woman—Ionna—reached down and pulled one of his eyelids open and hummed. "Tell me what happened."

Sig explained the situation, while Ionna pumped some water into a bowl. She glanced down at Daxter and frowned.

"No pets," she said firmly. "Sig, take it back with you."

"Hey! I'm not a pet!" Daxter snapped. As people tended to be, Ionna was surprised when he spoke. "Jak's my sidekick, I'll have you know, and I'm not going anywhere."

"…No rat fur on anything, you hear?" She placed the bowl beside the bed and brought out a soft cloth.

"Whatever." Daxter huffed indignantly. "Can you help Jak or not?"

"We'll see." She dipped the cloth into the water and gently placed it on his forehead. "Let's cool him down first."

"He gonna be alright? I think Damas is worried." Sig leaned on his Peacemaker. "I dunno what happened."

"He has some kind of an infection," Ionna said evenly. She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a tin container. "Probably been festering for a while, and now it's gotten too bad for his body to fight off on its own. Like I said, we'll wait and see if he needs more treatment, or if he's okay with rest."

She popped the tin open and pulled out a small pill. "Antibiotics. Do you have to report to Damas?" she asked Sig.

He nodded. "Yeah. Listen, I'll check back in later, but…take care of him. He's a good kid."

Sig nodded to Daxter and left. Ionna put the pill in a glass of water and stirred it, dissolving the pill. She pressed the glass to Jak's lips and he swallowed automatically. As she set the glass aside, she pursed her lips and pressed her hand against his cheek. Daxter looked up at her.

"What? What now?" He paced along Jak's chest, literally wringing his hands. "Ah, geez, he's dying! He's dead! He's a zombie!"

"Does your mouth ever close?" Ionna huffed out a breath of air and stood. "His fever is a little higher than I'd like, that's all. I'd like to bring it down as quickly as possible."

Ionna reached into the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of liquid light eco. Strange, she thought. The eco seemed to be…energetic today. It was hot to the touch and was vibrating in the bottle. "I need you to move away from him," she told the animal. He hurumphed and turned away from her, refusing to leave.

"No way!" he said loudly. She rolled her eyes.

"I cannot treat him if you don't get away from him." She gave the animal a stern glare. He gulped and jumped onto the bedside table. "Thank you. Now, this treatment will exhaust him, so I suggest you be quiet around him, so as to not wake him."

She was wary of giving a person too much light eco—it was easy to overload a body with it. She didn't even really want to give it, but the boy's fever was too high. Whatever infection he had, he needed something stronger than just regular medicines.

Ionna uncorked the bottle.

Like a magnet, without her direction, the eco zoomed out of the bottle. She gasped, attempting to snatch it out of the air, but it was already heading straight for the bed-ridden boy. "No!"

The eco hit his body and sunk into him. Instead of what she expected—a shout of pain, a gasp of breath, she had even seen seizures—the boy just inhaled and exhaled deeply, while the light eco settled in his body.

His breathing eased up and some of the tension in his face dissipated. Nothing besides that happened, and the rat didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Ionna stepped away, the empty bottle in her hand shaking.

Was _this_ the boy Seem had warned her about? The boy who was tainted by dark eco…the one Seem claimed could turn into a monster?

Then…why was he channeling _light_ eco?

* * *

The world was blinding.

Jak wasn't really sure where or _when_ he was. There was Samos, sitting by his bed one minute, then a buck-toothed, human Daxter standing with his hands on his hips, then he morphed into Gol Acheron with a harsh laugh, that turned into the cold, cruel one of Erol.

He was hot. He was cold. He was nothing.

Fuck, he was spinning. He felt like he was going to vomit.

He did.

* * *

There were several times that Jak vaguely remembered sitting up, leaning over to be violently sick, and then passing back out. A few times, he was awake enough to feel someone giving him water to greedily gulp down.

But he didn't fully wake up for several days, until the bright morning sunlight burst through his eyelids. He gave a loud groan and lifted his arm over his head. Great Precursors, he felt like hell.

"Hold on, child, don't sit up just yet." He heard a woman's voice, followed by some banging around, before he felt a presence beside him.

The woman was gentle, her thin hands wiping his forehead with a cool cloth. Jak blearily opened his eyes.

"..What happened…?"

"You fell ill," she said. "Sig brought you in, said none of the monks were a help to you." Her voice had the coarse, rough quality that all Wastelanders' did, but it was softer and quieter. She reached up and checked his forehead.

"Your fever's gone down, good. It broke last night. You're recovering nicely, I must say."

Jak went to sit up and immediately regretted it. He felt his empty stomach flip and gagged on bile. The woman grabbed a bucket she had set aside and held it out for him. He took advantage of it.

When he finished vomiting, the woman pointed to a small table beside the bed. "Water and a cloth. Rinse out your mouth and spit."

Of course, with his impeccable timing, that was when Daxter decided to wake up and screech, "Jak, you're alive!"

Jak almost swallowed the water, but the woman quickly slapped his back. He spit it out in a spray and coughed. "D—Daxter, geez! Don't scare me."

"Don't scare you? _Don't scare you?!"_ Daxter leapt up on the bed and shook Jak's shoulders. "You throw up organs out of your body, but _I scared you?_ Gah!"

"You're exaggerating, Dax," Jak said wearily. "It wasn't that bad."

"You should listen to your friend," Ionna chastised him. She stood up and folded her arms. "Fevers like this are nothing to laugh at, especially not in the desert heat."

Jak turned to look at the woman for the first time. She started moving around the room, putting bottles and crates back into the cupboards where they belonged. Jak could only see glimpses of her as she flitted about, quickly getting work done.

She was paler than most of the other Wastelanders, who were usually some level of tan from the desert sun. Her long hair was a sun-bleached blonde, almost white, and was tied at the nape of her neck. Her bangs were pinned back with a headband made of sparkling green seaglass; oddly, she was also barefoot, not wearing the normal boots that Wastelanders wore. It was hard to tell how old she was—much like the other Wastelanders, sun and stress had aged her. However, she looked just as tough as any of the others, with a rifle strapped to her back and several knives on her belt.

"…Thanks," Jak said awkwardly. "Um…what do I owe you?"

Because nothing came free in the world. Not in Haven, not in Spargus. The woman gave him a sideways look.

"It's fine," she said finally. "I owe Sig a favor. I am Ionna, by the way. A medic."

Silence descended over the room as Ionna continued to put things away. Jak shrugged at Daxter and rinsed his mouth out again, trying to get the bitter taste of sick out of it.

"Damn it!" There was the sound of glass breaking as Ionna dropped one of the bottles she'd been holding. Eco spilled out, a silvery-blue puddle on the floor. Jak could sense it and almost gasped.

"Is that…light eco?" The familiar pull seemed to spark through him, wanting to absorb it and take it for himself. He shuddered and pushed the sensation away. "Why do you have that?"

"Healing purposes," she replied. He watched in astonishment as she reached down, gently extended her palm, and picked up the eco. It didn't go into her body, as it did to Jak, but it swirled around in her palm. She guided the eco into another empty bottle with careful, steady hands. Both of the boys were speechless as she capped the bottle and started to sweep up the glass, seemingly oblivious to their stunned faces.

"You some kinda monk?" Daxter asked her.

"Mmm. Of sorts." The woman didn't seem keen on talking about it. "I wouldn't call myself that, however. I'm just very talented with light eco."

"Eh, Jak can do that with his eyes closed!" Daxter nudged his friend. "Right, Jak?"

"…No, Dax." He was still staring, wide-eyed, at Ionna. "I can't."

It was a funny thing, channeling eco. It had always come naturally to Jak, but it was a very…rudimentary type of channeling. Growing up, Jak had always envied how easily Samos could manipulate green eco. Jak could pull it in and let it go through his body, but Samos could _move_ it. He could push and pull it, send it streaming across the room. He could collect it, store it, crystallize it, and liquefy it.

Meanwhile, all Jak could do was use it.

Not even the monks and Onin could control eco like Samos—and Ionna, he supposed—could. They used soft touches, sparks and flits of eco. As if they could feel it and move it around, but never really hold onto it. No, just like Jak, they could only use it, never capture it.

"Are you a sage?" he blurted out. Ionna almost dropped the bottle again. "An eco sage?"

"A sage?" Daxter shrieked. "Ugh, we already got one of those! And let me tell you, he's a pain in my—!"

"I shouldn't be surprised you noticed," Ionna mused. "You clearly have an affinity for eco, as well. But I don't know that you could call me a sage, however talented I am with eco."

Ionna walked over the bed and reached out to check Jak's temperature again. "Hmm…you're still warm, but I'd say you're almost back up to snuff. Three more days."

"Three days?!" Daxter shouted. A loud moan came from another bed and Ionna glared at him. "Heh heh…I mean, three days?"

Three days? Jak shifted in the bed and grimaced. He hated being confined to one spot for too long. The last time had been when he was a child, and Samos had fished him and Daxter out of the sea. He'd been stung by a jelly-eel and was out of commission for almost a week.

"You don't seem to understand, young man." Ionna turned her stern gaze on Jak, who felt like a misbehaving child. "You almost died."

"What was wrong with me, anyway?" Jak grumbled.

"An infection," she said simply. "Probably from a wound you got on a mission. It happens a lot with Wastelanders, but yours was particularly bad."

There was another loud moan and Ionna went to go take care of that person. Jak and Daxter both sighed in unison.

"Well, buddy, I guess we're stuck here for the time being." Daxter hopped up on his friend's shoulder. "Wanna play hangman?"

"This is stupid," Jak said. "She can't stop me from leaving." He stood up—ignoring the fact that his vision spun when he did—and started for the door.

There was a single, loud, echoing clap, followed by a brilliant light flashing in front of him. Out of nowhere, Ionna appeared in front of him. She lifted her chin and placed a hand on his chest.

"Oh, can't I?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, I had no idea people would like my weird rambly fanfiction! I'm so glad. Thank you guys! I'm really having fun writing again.
> 
> Happy reading!

Jak froze, in total shock, because he'd never seen it from the outside.

_That was light eco._

A thousand and one questions bombarded his mind, all of them some variation of _what the hell?!_

"You are in no condition to be up and about." Ionna grabbed his upper arm and spun him around, dumping him back on the bed. With a loud grunt, he landed on his stomach, face-down in the pillow. "You're staying here."

Jak rolled over and tried to stand up, but the world spun around him, so he sat back down. Instead, he stared at her, blinking in confusion.

"How…how can you do that?" he asked quietly. "You changed…you transformed."

"I told you. I'm talented with eco." She folded her arms and gave him a stern look. "Years of practice with it allows me to do that. Now, lie back down and get some rest."

"You can't keep me here," Jak repeated stubbornly. "I don't care how good you are with eco."

"Try me, child." Ionna glared at him. "Until I'm certain you're fully recovered, you stay here."

Jak stood up again, ignoring that Daxter gave a nervous chuckle. "Look, you really don't want to get into a fight with me."

Ionna simply folded her arms.

Jak walked towards her and stretched his arm out to shove her aside.

She clapped her hands again. The light flashed, power reverberating through his bones, and then Jak found himself face down on the floor, one arm twisted behind his back and Ionna pinning him down.

"What the fu—?!" He snarled, but for some reason, the darkness didn't seem to boil to the surface like it usually would.

"I warned you," she said calmly. "You. Are staying. Here."

She let him up from the ground, and he stood up. He stumbled on his feet, almost falling back down immediately. He felt his stomach heave, but didn't (thankfully!) vomit again. Ionna took advantage and guided him back to bed.

"Rest." That was all she said as she settled him on the bed and went over to tend to another patient.

Drained, Jak fell back against the pillows with a thump. His friend hopped up and settled on his shoulder.

"She used light eco." Jak glanced at Daxter. "That was the flash freeze that I got."

"Maybe she got some goofy statues to shine a flashlight on her, too." Daxter lounged against the side of Jak's head. "What's the big deal, anyway? So some old crotchety nurse can go all glowy, whoopee."

Jak started to reply, but he felt his head start to spin again. "Ugh…Dax, how long was I out?" He pressed his palms against his temples and groaned.

Uh…two days." Daxter paused, then continued, unnaturally serious, "Maybe you better do what she says, Jak. Take a few days off, relax a bit, get better."

As he slouched down, Jak had to admit, he really didn't feel great. The thought of going into the desert, in the bright sun and heat, made his stomach churn. He flexed his fist angrily and sighed.

"Geez." Jak closed his eyes and frowned. "I feel like crap. She's right, I'm useless like this."

"Eh, don't sweat it," Daxter said, patting his shoulder. "Take it from me: you're pretty useless when you're at full health!"

Jak pulled the blanket up over his shoulders. "Thanks, Dax. I appreciate that."

* * *

Jak fell asleep quickly, still achy and tired. He woke up a bit in the afternoon, ate some soup at Daxter's urging, and then fell back asleep again. The rest of the day passed with him going in and out, hazily opening his eyes long enough to roll over and close them again. His dreams were filled with the lush, bright colors of Sandover, interspersed with the earth tones of Spargus' desert and the cold, grey metal of Haven.

There was a voice that floated through his dreams, one that he automatically paired with the sound of echoing precursor metal and the hum of eco. A deep voice that talked of _light_ and called him a _hero._

Even in his dreams, he tried to protest, but the damned thing wouldn't listen.

His dreams were shattered, as they always were, by a familiar voice shouting.

"Ugh, that's not even a word!"

Jak bolted up in his bed, jerked out of sleep by Daxter's shrill voice. "What the hell?!" His hands automatically reached behind his back to grab the morph gun, before realizing it wasn't there. His heart slowed a bit, recognizing that he wasn't in danger here: he was in Spargus, in an infirmary, sick as a dog, safe as a child.

"It most certainly is a word." Ionna's calm voice cut through Daxter's. "It's a plant."

"How do you even pronounce that?" Daxter yelled. Jak flinched, his head still pounding and making Daxter seem even louder than usual. "Quin-o-ah?"

"Keen-wah." Ionna said it slowly before turning towards Jak. "Your friend needs to read more."

Jak blinked. It was a surreal sight: Ionna and Daxter were sitting at a small table, playing some kind of game with letter tiles. Ionna was clearly winning, with a considerable pile of them on her side of the table. "Um…"

"We got bored waiting for you wake up from your nap," Daxter explained. "So the good doctor here broke out a game to play."

"You slept for a good time," Ionna said, gathering up the tiles. She swept them into a bag and stashed the bag in a cabinet above her head. "I had to keep him out of trouble, lest he give one of my patients a rage stroke."

"…What time is it?" Jak asked, rubbing his aching neck.

"Almost 8 pm. You've been asleep for the entire day." Ionna handed Daxter a heating pad, which he gave to Jak. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah." Jak set the pad on his neck and sighed. It eased the soreness in the muscles. "Thanks."

Ionna turned back to the water pump. "In a better mood, I hope?"

Jak frowned and Daxter held back a snicker. "Yeah. Sorry for...being kind of a jerk."

"Apology accepted. Take this." Ionna was holding out a glass of water and a small white pill. "It'll kick the infection for good."

"Ah…" Jak hesitantly took the glass and the medicine. "…I'll be fine. Got any green eco?"

"Antibiotics will work better," she insisted.

Jak stared at the glass, then took the pill and a drink. For a minute, he felt the pill slip down his throat. Then it came back up and then he started to gag.

He spit the water and pill out back into the glass. Coughing, he said, "I…can't swallow pills."

Ionna blinked. "You…?"

"I've never been able to," he snapped. He felt a blush rise to his face. "I never needed to."

Because green eco had always done the trick. Sickness or injury, Samos had always been able to heal him within a day or two. Other villagers had to take typical medicine—the farmer got salves and oils for his aches and pains, the Explorer got a cure-all potion for whatever weird injury he got on his travels, and Daxter always got pills to combat his headaches and fevers—but Jak always got a dose of green eco and was up and running again.

She frowned and took the glass back. "Hold on."

She went back to the counter and there was the clinking of glass. She returned a few moments later with a now cloudy glass of water. "Here. Drink this."

Jak took a drink. The water tasted bitter and had a chalky texture to it. He finished, despite the terrible taste, and handed the glass back. "What did you do?"

"Crushed the pill and dissolved it into the water." She washed the glass and set it aside. "I do it for children who are too young to take pills."

"Oh." Jak fidgeted with his fingers, an old habit. "I mean…I'm not a kid."

"I know you're not a kid, but you still need the antibiotics." She reached out her hand and felt his forehead. "Good, the fever's going down. You're sounding much better, too."

"Of course he is!" Daxter reached up and pinched Jak's cheek playfully. Jak swatted him away. "Look at him, he's in perfect condition! He's even got some color in his cheeks!"

"Knock it off," Jak grumbled. Daxter laughed and flopped back on one of the pillows. "Geez."

Ionna smiled at Daxter's antics, amused. "Alright, I want you to eat something. Nothing solid, but some broth will do."

Jak nodded. He didn't feel hungry, but he didn't feel queasy anymore, either. She came back a half hour later with a bowl of some kind of yellow broth and he settled in to eat it. It was spicy and flavorful, a far cry from the bland meals of Haven City.

By the time he was finished, Daxter had curled up on the pillows and fallen asleep. Jak, however, didn't feel tired at all.

"It's understandable. You've been asleep all day." Ionna was folding up clean sheets for an empty bed nearby. "If you need something to keep yourself occupied, there's some paper in the drawer over there. I've got a few books, some games…just be quiet so others can rest."

So, as night fell and Ionna herself went to bed, Jak decided to draw. It started out as doodles—the oracles, Daxter, a misshapen blob that should have been a metal head. But he got bored with that easily and started searching for something else to do. He'd never been much of a reader, and all the games seemed uninteresting without Daxter there to be a sore loser.

Jak's eyes fell on one of the shelves, where a dozen bottles of light eco were neatly lined up.

He stretched out his hand, sensing the eco that was inside. The eco automatically wanted to come to him; it was making the bottles shake as it tried to get out. He knew he could easily make it shatter the containers and shoot straight to him.

But, he wondered, could he make it go the other way?

He reached his hand out, trying it mimic the movements he'd seen Ionna make earlier. It had been graceful, almost, the way the eco obeyed her every command. He pushed his hands away from his body, hoping he would see the bottle move away, too.

The eco didn't do anything besides shake harder. He frowned, annoyed, and swept his hand again. The bottle closest to him moved slightly, scraping against the wooden shelf.

"C'mon," he growled softly. He made a hard, jerky swipe at the bottle, causing it to abruptly shoot across the room and smash against the wall. The light eco spilled out and zoomed straight towards him. "Gah!"

"You're trying too hard."

Jak almost jumped out of his skin. Over in the doorway, Ionna was watching him, shrouded in shadows. He had no idea how long she had been watching him, her arms folded and a smirk on her face.

"Wh—what does that mean?" He felt his face get hot as she walked over to the shelf. "Trying too hard seems like a good thing."

"Not with eco, I'm afraid." She reached over and grabbed another bottle, bringing it to his bedside. "Eco is much more natural. It's intuitive, and trying too hard simply frustrates you."

She opened the bottle and the eco poured out into the air, following her languid hand motions. Jak watched, enthralled, as it followed her hand, twisting through the air before finally going back into the bottle.

"It's amazing," he whispered. Ionna smiled.

"You try." She held the bottle out for him and he hesitated. "Go on. I've seen you absorb it, you have the ability to control it."

"Look, I was just messing around. This isn't my kind of thing."

Ionna sighed and forced the bottle into his hand. "How would you know? You just tried it."

Jak inhaled and gripped the bottle tighter. He could feel the eco, struggling to get out towards him. He raised his hand, trying to make his movements as light and fluid as Ionna's. At first, the eco started to trickle out of the bottle, slowly and without going straight for him. He smiled and jerked his hand away from himself.

Which sent the eco straight across the room, where it boomeranged back towards him. He absorbed it with a grunt.

"I told you," he said, annoyed. "Not what I'm good at."

"You're thinking like a warrior," she mused. "Trying to control the eco. But eco can't be controlled. However, it's…malleable. You can lead it where you want it to go."

_Malleable…? Why did that sound familiar…?_ "Like water," Jak said. "It flows."

"Exactly," she told him as she reached for another bottle. He raised an eyebrow. "It flows. You cannot force a river to turn, but you can guide it into a lake."

"Got it." Jak took the bottle and steeled himself. "Okay."

"Wait. Before you do so, take a breath." Ionna inhaled deeply and Jak followed suit. "Relax and let your mind empty. Once you are ready, then you can take the eco out."

Jak closed his eyes and followed her breathing. He tried his best to clear his mind of everything. Eventually, he opened his eyes and said, "Alright, I'm ready."

He uncapped the bottle. He slowly pulled the eco out and waved his hand around. The eco followed his movements, circling in the air around him. He spun it a few times, enthralled by the colors that shone through it, and finally tipped his hand. The eco went back into the bottle and he capped it off, pleased with himself.

"Nice job." Ionna beamed at him and he smiled back. "You learn very quickly. Tell me, have you always been able to channel eco?"

"Yeah. I used to do a lot when I was a kid." Days long gone by, he thought, remembering the feeling of stepping into a blue eco vent and feeling like he was on top of the world. "Now I only do it with light eco and dark eco."

Ionna looked shocked. " _Dark_ eco? You've channeled dark eco?"

He suddenly felt foolish. He hadn't meant to admit it. "You got a problem with that?" he snarled.

_Eco freak._

_Lunatic._

_Monster._

"Please, child, you act as if I should be afraid of you." Ionna shook her head. "No, I was just curious because…well, it's unusual. I've never heard of anyone who could tap into both light and dark eco. You should be careful. It's very dangerous."

"Yeah. I know." Jak folded his arms. "Trust me."

He watched her for a moment, trying to decipher her facial expression. Like most of the Wastelanders he'd met, Ionna didn't seem fazed by his sudden aggression. It seemed like something they were all used to. There was no disgust, no fear, nothing like what he had seen in Haven City.

She stood up, taking the bottle of light eco with her. "It's nearly 2 AM. Your sleep schedule is going to be off, so I suggest getting some sleep in now. I'll wake you up tomorrow morning for more antibiotics."

Jak watched her go back to bed. He settled back in the pillows and closed his eyes, trying to force himself into sleep. He was met with another round of strange dreams, this time the voice echoing about _balance_ and _danger_ and _fate._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the awesome people reading, thanks! And I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Here we go!

By the time Jak woke up, the morning was in full swing. Daxter was already awake, dancing to something on the old radio that was playing. He could distantly hear the sounds of glasses clinking together. His eyes took a few minutes to refocus and adjust.

"Morning, sunshine!" Daxter jumped onto Jak's chest and peered into his face. "Feelin' better?"

Jak sat up and swallowed. His throat was parched, but the headache and nausea that had plagued him earlier was gone. "Yeah," he rasped. "Actually, I do."

He got out of bed and stood up. The world stayed steady around him, for which he was grateful. He went to the water pump and got a tin cup full of water.

"I'm glad to see you're up and about." Jak glanced over to see Ionna, a tray of medicine in her hands. She set it down while he gulped down a drink. A few seconds later, she handed him another glass with crushed up pills dissolved in it. "Drink up."

Jak obeyed, still shuddering at the strange taste and texture. "There. How many more of those do I have to drink?"

"Just one more. I'll give it to you tomorrow morning, then you can leave." There was a call from another bed and Ionna disappeared to help the patient.

Jak wondered back over to his bed. "Well, Dax, now what?"

"Just relax," his friend said soothingly. He picked up a thick, academic—looking book and handed it to Jak. "Here, read some of these doctor books. Check out page 23, it's really cool!"

Page 23, as it turned out, had an anatomically correct diagram of a male prostate on it, which caused Jak to roll his eyes and Daxter to laugh uproariously. Jak shut the book and almost threw it at him.

"If you're bored and want something to do," Ionna said, suddenly appearing at the foot of the bed, "then you can start making med kits. Damas likes to replace everyone's kits every few months, just in case, so you can imagine how many we have to put together."

She brought him a stack of small boxes, each about the size of a pencil box. Each box needed a set of medical supplies, she explained. Bandages, a jar of salve, a bottle of disinfectant, a syringe full of anesthetic, a cold pack, and a small vial of green eco.

"Hey, how come we gotta do your work?" Daxter complained. "We go out all day, running around in the desert, gettin' sand in places we don't want sand! And you make us do more work when we're sick."

"Consider it payment," Ionna said evenly. "For saving your life."

"Didn't save my life," Daxter grumbled, but Jak couldn't argue, so they got to work.

The rote, thoughtless work gave the pair a chance to talk. At first, it started with simple chatter—mostly by Daxter—but it eventually turned back to their life in Sandover.

"I'm just saying," Daxter said, tossing a roll of bandages to his friend, "I miss the ocean! The good ocean, not this gross monster ocean." He made a face and Jak laughed. "Seriously! It's full of weird sea monsters!"

"Sandover had the lurker shark," Jak reminded him. "It's not that different." He gently set the roll of bandages into the box and sealed it. He set it aside in the finished pile. "I actually miss Snowy Mountain more."

"Really? That place?" Daxter rolled his eyes. "Ugh, that place suuuucked!"

Jak picked up an empty box. "I mean, it never snows in Haven. It sure doesn't snow around here."

As they talked, the door opened, a bell above ringing. A boy walked in, glancing around. "Miss? Miss, I'm here for the morning run!"

The boy was fairly young, maybe 13 years old, tall and skinny. He gazed around the infirmary. When his eyes landed on Jak, his chest puffed out in pride and his hands immediately went to a beaten leather satchel at his side. He nodded at Jak (in what he must have thought was a stoic manner) and said in a self-important voice, "I deliver the medicine to folks. Just here to pick some up, warrior."

"Huh." Jak locked eyes with Daxter, who was biting his lip to keep from laughing. "That's a pretty important job."

The boy's dark eyes lit up. "Yeah! It is!"

Ionna came up just as Daxter gave a snort of laughter. Jak slapped his hand over the ottsel's mouth.

"Good morning, Rios." She handed him three different vials of medicine and watched him gently settle them into his bag. Once he was all together, she handed him a few metal coins that he excitedly pocketed. "Make sure you watch Lyle take his. He's a stubborn old man, likes to think he's invincible."

Rios nodded. "Yes, Miss. Anything else you need?"

"No, Savara is stopping by after lunch. But thank you, that's very kind."

Rios nodded to both Ionna and Jak before turning around, briskly walking out into Spargus. Jak removed his hand and Daxter burst into laughter.

"Oh, man, kids crack me up!"

Ionna smiled warmly. "Yes, Rios is…very proud of what he can do for Spargus. He's already been caught trying to go fight Marauders. At least this keeps him out of trouble."

Rios' arrival seemed to signal some kind of change in the daily routine. People started coming in after that, the bell chiming above them acting as a warning. Most of them didn't pay any attention to Jak; several recognized him and gave him the silent nod of respect that Wastelanders gave each other as a greeting.

Jak was surprised by how many Wastelanders stopped by; it seemed like there was a never-ending stream of people looking for Ionna's help. She spent her day dealing with various citizens, taking the time in between to refill vials and mix up medicine.

A mother with her young child, who had hurt her wrist climbing the rocks, quickly had it wrapped and braced before being sent on her way. An older man with a cough was given thick syrup to drink, but warned not to drink it all at once. Three very dehydrated, very sun burnt young Wastelanders were given a stern talking to about how the desert was different than the city, a jar of green aloe, and plenty of water.

A mechanic with stitches, an infant with a temperature, even a worn-out warrior who just asked for a bed were all given what they needed and sent on their way.

All, Jak noticed, without paying anything to Ionna.

"How come you don't charge anyone?" he asked her during a lull. He and Daxter had made several dozen med kits by now, stacked up in rows beside his bed. Ionna was calmly measuring out ingredients for some kind of paste. "No one is paying you for everything you're doing."

"Yeah, you'd make a killin'!" Daxter said. "You could have anything you want! You could have a swimming pool…with a diving board…full of chocolate…" Jak rolled his eyes, but Ionna did answer his question.

"Out here," she said, still focused on her task, "disease and injury are as common as sand and sun. If I charged for my services, a lot of people would die. I'm afraid I can't abide by that."

"So how do you eat?" Daxter asked. "No money, no food, right?"

Ionna capped the bottle she was working on and pulled out a pen to label it. "Well, for starters, Wastelanders like to trade. This isn't Haven, where only money gets you goods. I have a lot of things lying around that people are more than willing to barter for."

She held up the jar with satisfaction. "And, secondly, I don't make _these_ for my health. I sell them to some of my contacts in Haven, and a few in Kras City. They fetch a fair price."

They were cut off from their conversation by a frantic woman with two toddlers, both of them speckled with some kind of rash. Ionna led them away for some kind of bath soak, leaving Jak and Daxter to themselves.

It eventually died down again around lunchtime. Another teenager came by, this one a girl, to deliver medicine. Ionna gave Jak some meat stew to eat and monitored him as he did so.

"I feel fine," he said as he stuffed another spoonful in his mouth. He was _starving._ "Seriously," he added as she gave him a skeptical look.

"Not nauseous? Queasy?"

He shook his head and swallowed his food. "Nope, perfectly fine."

Ionna nodded, pleased. "Good. You're making a full recovery."

She started eating her own bowl, sitting in the chair nearby and resting her bare feet in a basin of hot water. Things were quiet: Jak was the only patient left, as the others had been discharged.

Of course, Daxter didn't really _do_ quiet.

"You know, you never gave us a real answer," Daxter said to her. "Why are you so good with eco?"

Ionna's hands stilled and Jak feared Daxter had upset her. However, she quickly resumed eating and said, "At one point, I was in the monks, training to become the sage of light eco. Nowadays, I just try to put my skills to good use."

"You used to be a sage?" Jak asked.

"No, I used to be an acolyte," she corrected. "There's a lot involved in being a sage. I never made it that far."

"What happened?"

"Praxis. War. The Wasteland." Ionna shrugged. "Take your pick. I gave up a lot just trying to survive."

She didn't say anything more, and her demeanor told Jak that she wasn't going to. He let it drop.

Daxter, however…

"I'm glad you're not a goofy monk," he said. "Those guys are ca-ray-zee."

"Ha. Crazy, they may be, but I was trained as one." She gave a wistful smile and sighed. "I was one of them since I was a little girl in Haven City. Back then, I never dreamed I'd be where I am now."

"There were monks in Haven?" Jak leaned forward, curious. He'd never heard of the Precursor monks before stumbling into Spargus. "We knew a sage there, but he wasn't a monk."

Ionna blinked. "Huh. Now that's interesting." She shrugged and took another bite. "Well, I've never met a sage who _wasn't_ trained as a monk, but that doesn't mean anything. The power to become a sage comes from the eco, not the training."

"His name was Samos. Know him?" Ionna shook her head. Jak gave Daxter a look. "Huh. Wonder what he isn't telling us."

"Ha!" Daxter rolled his eyes. "Knowing him, probably a lot."

"What happened?" Jak asked. "Were the monks banished?"

"Hmm…not exactly." Ionna gently set her empty bowl and spoon aside. "A long time ago, the leader of the monks ordered us to come out here to the desert temple, and wait until Damas arrived to lead him to Spargus. She had a vision of the future and warned us that we had to help him."

Jak and Daxter gave each other a curious look. The only person they knew with any powers like that was sitting in Haven, cross—legged in a tent.

"…Onin?" Jak guessed. Ionna looked surprised. "We've met her before."

"I didn't know she was still alive," Ionna said, stunned. "She had to stay behind in Haven due to her age, so I just figured…"

Ionna went quiet: she appeared to be thinking about something, her eyes faraway. Finally, she asked, "Did…did Onin send you out here?"

Jak shook his head. "No, that was…" He shrugged. "Someone else. But I'll be she and Samos both knew what would happen."

He felt a rush of anger suddenly. _Of course_ Samos knew what would happen. And he hadn't stopped it, he'd just let Jak be banished and thrown out into the desert and die…

His angry thoughts fizzled out as Daxter said loudly, "Hey, can we talk about something else? Not to be rude, but all this monk babble is boring me." He hopped down to the foot of Jak's bed. "Ooh, ooh, I know! Let's talk about us! Or even better, let's talk about me!"

Jak rolled his eyes, but Ionna chuckled. "Well, if you're going to interrogate me, I'll return the favor." She smiled at Jak. "Where do your talents for light eco come from?"

Jak stiffened. "I…I've always been able to channel," he said truthfully. "I wasn't trained or anything. I just…did it."

"Interesting." Ionna didn't tell him what was interesting, but she continued, "And you mentioned the same affinity for dark eco, too. I've never met anyone with such an innate ability to channel."

"Hey, hey!" Daxter waved his furry paws in the air. "What about me? You know, _I_ won the Haven Racing Championship," he bragged. "Yep, I raced our way to victory! There was a few times it looked kind of hairy, but I pulled through…"

Jak folded his arms and sat back against the pillows, letting Daxter's prattling turn into background noise. He glanced over at Ionna.

She looked strange…almost worried about something. She had a faraway look on her face, as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle she just couldn't quite grasp. Jak watched her for a moment, before she suddenly looked up and stared directly at him, eyes intent on him.

He turned away, focusing on Daxter instead. He didn't really have time to worry about the weirdness of monks or former sages or whatever. He had enough on his plate.

Still…he couldn't help but feel that he _should_ worry about it.

* * *

The rest of the day was relatively peaceful. There was a rush of patients who came in later in the day, but, as Ionna explained, that was usually when the Wastelanders returned from their missions. It wasn't until almost sundown that people stopped coming in.

"I have somewhere I have to go," Ionna announced suddenly. Both boys glanced up at her uneasily. "Don't worry," she assured them. "I very rarely have patients come in around this time."

She started to strap on her boots. Jak hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say, but Daxter beat him to it.

"Hey!" he shouted. "You can't just ditch us! What if some poor guy comes in here missing an arm or something? I'm not sewing any limbs back on!"

Ionna rolled her eyes. "I figured you wouldn't want to be here alone." She wrapped a scarf around her neck, poising it to cover her mouth. "I already called for someone to take my place. Another Wastelander should be here in a few minutes to keep an eye on things."

"You going into the desert?" Jak asked. Ionna nodded. "Safe trip."

"Right." She gave them both a stern look. "Don't you two get into any trouble. _I mean it._ "

With that, Ionna went out the door, the bell chiming as she stepped out. Jak watched her leave, then gave Daxter a mischievous grin.

"I'm not going to get into any trouble. How about you, Dax?"

Daxter folded his arms and smirked. "I would never! But, if, say, we found something to throw…?"

"…And something to throw into?" Jak finished.

"Well, we could just…practice our aim!" Daxter leapt down onto the floor and scampered away to search the infirmary."Yeah, we won't get into any trouble at all!"

"Right." Jak grinned and started digging around in the drawer nearby. "No trouble at all."

* * *

"There ya are." Kleiver banged on the hood of the Dune Hopper and handed the keys to Ionna. "Don't break me buggy."

"I was going to sink it into the sea," she replied, climbing into the front seat. Kleiver grimaced at her. "Just joking. I'll bring it back safe and sound."

"Great. Don't get eaten, either." He wiped his hands on a rag and walked away as she started the buggy up. He gave her a salute as he headed into the garage, which she returned before heading out into the desert.

* * *

"Alright, bullseye!" Daxter jumped up and whooped in the air. "I'm winning, Jak!"

Jak grumbled and picked up another tongue depressor. "By, like, two points." He took aim at the bedpan that was leaning against the wall and flung the tongue depressor. It made a dull thunk as it hit the edge and bounced off. "Shit!"

"Ooh, swing and a miss! Looks like Orange Lightning is up." Daxter threw the next one, which missed the bedpan completely and hit the wall. "Aw!"

"Yes!" Jak picked one up and was about to throw it, when the door opened. He glanced over and was surprised by the newcomer. "Damas? What are you doing?"

"What am I doing?" Damas looked around the room, confused. "What are _you_ doing? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Um…" Jak shrank back a little at Damas' stern gaze. "Well…"

"We were bored!" Daxter snapped. Damas walked over to the pair and pulled up a chair. He looked around appraisingly: a dozen or so tongue depressors littering the floor, a bedpan set up as a target, two teenagers looking guilty. "We were just playing a game!"

"Hmm." Damas turned towards Jak. "Are you feeling better? You look better."

"Yeah. Thanks." Jak folded his arms. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Ionna called for backup," he replied. "I was free, so I came down to help." He glanced around uneasily. "Is…is she here?"  
Jak shook his head. "No, she already left."

Damas' face seemed to relax. "Ah. Of course you two wouldn't be doing this if she were around."

"Uh, yeah. Speaking of which," Daxter said nervously, "how about we keep this between the three of us? I don't want to end up mummified with bandages."

"Hmm." Damas reached over and took a tongue depressor. He turned it around in his fingers. "Who's winning?"

Jak grimaced petulantly. "Daxter is."

Damas took aim and flung the tongue depressor. It landed directly in the center of the bedpan, reverberating through the room. "Not for long," he said threateningly. "You'd best try a little harder, warrior, or you'll be in third place."

Jak grinned and picked up another one. "You're on."

* * *

Ionna was barred from the monk temple.

There was no shield that stopped her from entering, nor armed guards or threats. But having been outlawed from the monks, she was not allowed inside. Not that she had any reason to come to the monk temple anymore. No, that time of her life had passed. The ban had never bothered her before. It didn't bother her now.

The monks' seclusion period ended at sundown. The monks, eager for fresh air, trickled out from the entrance. As Ionna sat on a broken chunk of metal and waited, many of them greeted her, some with her old title. She smiled and nodded, waved hand signals and gave ancient Precursor greetings. But her eyes were always on the lookout for the one monk she needed right now.

Finally, she appeared.

Seem walked slowly into the sand, savoring every second of cool air on her skin after having been inside the temple for five days. When she spotted Ionna, her eyes widened.

"Ionna. What are you doing here?" Seem approached her cautiously, almost afraid. "You know you…are not allowed inside our walls."

"I stayed outside," Ionna replied. She stood up and, with a surprisingly firm grip, seized Seems' upper arm. "Get in the buggy, Seem. We have something to discuss."

* * *

_In Haven City, the monks had a temple in the mountains, high above the city. It towered over the palace, as if to remind everyone that the Precursors were above any mere man._

_The first lesson learned as a monk was to never—under any circumstances—interrupt another monk's mediation or prayer. Such a time was considered sacred, when the monks would look to the Precursors and self-reflect on their own state of being._

_The monks would usually pray once per day, though some of the older ones prayed more often. They would retreat to their own quarters, or sometimes to the more secluded areas of the temple, so that they could be alone with their makers._

_Ionna's favorite place to pray was on a cliff, overhanging the entrance to the temple. If she listened closely, she could hear the sounds of the agricultural district: the metal scraping of the farmers' tools, the sound of water sprinkling on the crops, indistinct shouts and orders. Peaceful and serene, but still connected to the world._

_When a monk interrupted her prayer to take her to Onin, Ionna was immediately on edge. Prayer was untouchable to the monks; to break the meditation of another was considered highly disrespectful, so it must be important._

_Onin sat in an empty hall, on a threadbare rug. The years had taken their toll on the monks' leader. Her eyesight was starting to fail, and she could no longer walk, even with her staff to help her. Her skin had started to wrinkle and cling to her bones, though she hardly seemed to notice her aging._

_"My child. Sit." Onin gestured next to where she sat, her spindly legs crossed. "We have much to speak about."_

_Ionna obeyed without question. She was the light eco acolyte, yes, and highly respected as a result. However, she was still young then, inexperienced and raw, like an unpolished gem. Onin was her elder, her mentor, her master._

_Once she was settled, Onin reached out with her bird-bone hands and gently grasped Ionna's own fingers. "Ionna, it is time we talk about your future."_

_Ionna felt a shiver up her spine. For some reason, the words struck a chord with her, reminding her that Onin could see further than anyone else._

_However, Onin simply said, "I have always had visions of your life. Small, but important events that only you can set in motion. However, recently, these visions have become clearer…and more ominous."_

_Ionna felt Onin's hands tighten. "Onin, what do you mean?"_

_"Mar's heir will be dethroned." Onin said it with such finality that Ionna didn't even question it. "Haven City will descend into a storm, a fight which threatens to destroy it from the inside out. It will land on a precipice, hanging by a thread over an abyss."_

_"What should we do?" the younger girl asked. "Should we warn Damas?"_

_Onin sighed, touching one of her hands to her temple. "…It is a burden, to know what the future holds. No, we cannot warn him. He will have to face his trials alone, without our guidance. Unfortunately, that is how it must be."_

_"However," Onin continued, "I have seen the past, as well. The two will collide soon, and that will be our chance." She began to gesture with her arms, eco sparkling out of her fingers. "A hero will emerge, and that hero will save Haven City…and our world."_

_"So, we have to help this hero?" Ionna looked down at her own unnaturally pale fingers. "What do I need to do?"_

_"The hero will have powers unimaginable, powers only Mar foresaw. He will hold the key to balancing the good and evil of the world. It will be up to you and Seem to teach this young hero, so that he may use his powers to save our world from destruction."_

_"Seem?" That surprised Ionna. She thought of her young charge, the girl who was barely twelve years old. She was still hesitant, unsure of herself, struggling to accept her place in the swirling darkness that surrounded her. "But Seem is a child. She has a long way to go before she can train anyone else."_

_"It matters not," Onin said firmly. "In times of war, we must prioritize our energy. Ready or not, Seem must train the hero, not in the ways of eco, but in temperance."_

_"…Onin…I'm not sure I understand." Temperance? Ionna shook her head. "What do you…?"_

_"Shh, child, and listen," Onin said gently. "Trust me, you will understand when the time comes. The two of you are crucial to this mission."_

_Ionna swallowed. "I understand, Onin."_

_Onin inhaled. "Listen carefully. You must prepare for the storm that is coming. I will provide you with all the knowledge bestowed upon me by my predecessor. I will give you the scrolls and scriptures, I will give you the tales of our ancestors. Most importantly, I will give you the maps."_

_"…Maps?" Ionna's brow furrowed. "Maps of what?"_

_Onin gestured west, where the horizon was nothing but sand. "Of the world beyond Haven. You will have to take the monks and leave, to follow Mar's heir beyond the walls of his city. That…is the only way to save it."_

_"What about you?" Ionna blurted out. "Why won't you lead us?"_

_Onin gave her an enigmatic smile. "I am old, Ionna. I am frail. I will not survive such a journey. I can barely move about the temple."_

_"But…" Ionna glanced around the temple. "Why me?"_

_"The Precursors have chosen you as their hands," Onin said quietly. "Just as they chose me as their eyes. You must trust that they will guide you along the right path."_

_Ionna was still confused, but she nodded. "Of course, Onin. That's what I've always done."_

_"Good, my child." Onin let go of her hand and smiled. "Go back to your meditation."_

_Ionna nodded and stood up, bowing as she started to leave. She hesitated, however, and turned back. "Onin? Can you tell me how long we have until this happens?"_

_Onin frowned. "I can only tell you one thing, child."_

_"What?"_

_"Time is of the essence."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody panic! I didn't give up on this! I'm actually writing some other scenes that I have planned. I'm having a great time.
> 
> Happy reading!

Ionna drove Seem through the desert, sand flying around the Dune Hopper and the wind whipping against their faces. There was a storm brewing, but neither of the women seemed bothered by this. They were silent for a while, until Seem asked, "Where are we going?"

Ionna didn't answer at first, her lips pursed. Finally, she replied, "Some place private. We're almost there."

She drove them to the old ruins of a temple, parking beside a stone wall. It was weathered from the sandstorms, faded and worn, save for one part. The Seal of Mar, carved into the stone entrance, stood as clear as day above them.

Ionna cut the engine, leaving the two of them in a strange, echoing silence. "...I'll cut straight to the point. Surely, you remember Onin's premonition before we left Haven?"

Seem nodded curtly. "A hero of dark and light," she said quietly. "You must have met Jak."

Ionna gave her a hard look. "You knew about his abilities. Why didn't you tell me?"

Seem looked away, not able to make eye contact. Ionna had always been there for her, a guiding light when the darkness threatened to drown her. It was Ionna who had told her, all those years ago in the forest temple, that shadow only existed where there was light. It was Ionna who had protected her, out here in the Wastelands, among monsters and men.

Seem at least owed her the truth.

"His mind and emotions are in chaos," Seem replied. "He cannot be the hero we need, regardless of what Onin thinks."

"That's exactly why you and I are here," Ionna said. "We can help him become a hero." She gestured up towards the sky. "You talk of the daystar that's approaching, bringing destruction to our doorstep. If we don't do something, the world will end. I think that Jak is the best chance we have of survival."

"Yes, he is incredibly powerful," Seem said in her hushed voice. "But his power is raw. Unpolished. Uncontrolled."

"That can be fixed." Ionna drummed her fingers on the wheel of the buggy, thinking. "Powers can be controlled."

"We cannot take that risk." Seem remembered how he had been in the arena. "His powers could destroy us. He is not fit to become the hero needed to protect our world."

"I disagree," Ionna said simply. "He is still young, but temperance can be learned. If I recall correctly, isn't that _your_ duty?"

Seem huffed air out of her nose. "Hmph. I suppose it is. But…I don't know if I can truly help him."

"Seem." Ionna placed her hand on Seem's shoulder. "Please."

Seem hesitated. "There are others who can help us. We need to activate the planet's defense system, correct?"

"That's what the legends say."

"Then we only need someone who can control the Precursor artifacts." Seem looked down at her hands. "I have already spoken with someone. He is prepared to do what is necessary."

Ionna watched her for a moment. "…And you think this man is better than the hero Onin spoke of?" she asked. "You believe he doesn't have ulterior motives?"

Seem blinked. Of course Veger had ulterior motives, she thought. He wanted power and glory. But he was the best man for the job at the moment.

She didn't tell Ionna any of this, however. "Jak is not ready to become a hero," she argued. "I have seen him lose control of himself. He has been tainted by the dark eco. It's corrupted him."

"I don't think it has," Ionna said gently. "I've said it before, Seem: you overestimate the power of dark eco. Corruption begins in the heart."

Seem didn't respond. Instead, she just asked, "Are you intending to train Jak in light eco?"

"I am. Will you help him to control his darkness?"

For a moment, Seem was quiet. "…Very well. Hero or not, I will do as you ask."

"Good." Ionna turned the key and started the buggy again. "I'll let him know. If there is anything you need—"

"I will not require anything," she said bluntly. "Please take me back to the Monk Temple."

Ionna started to drive. "Thank you, Seem," she told her passenger. "I know you disagree, but…I appreciate it all the same."

Seem didn't answer, but her face showed her doubt. Ionna turned away; Seem would eventually find the truth on her own.

* * *

Jak had always had good aim. Growing up, he used to spend his afternoons lazily playing catch with the crocadogs of Sandover and using his slingshot to irritate the farmer's yakows. Nowadays, he was a crack shot with his guns, taking out armed guards with the same ease that he had yakows years ago.

Maybe that was why he was so frustrated that Damas was kicking his ass.

The king was winning by at least ten points. He hadn't missed a single shot since they'd started. The boys were both impressed and infuriated by his skills.

_Clang!_ "I believe that puts me at 25 points, warriors," Damas said with a smirk. "Still think you can catch me?"

"No." Jak shot and hit the center of the bedpan with a reverberating echo. "But that doesn't mean I won't try."

"Ha. A warrior's attitude." Damas folded his arms and watched as Daxter took aim. "Truly, you belong in the Wasteland, Jak."

Daxter missed and they watched with avid interest as Damas got another direct hit. Both of them gaped.

"You know," Daxter said, recovering quickly, "I bet you'd be pretty good on the turret. How come you don't have that trophy, huh?"

"Hmph." Damas gave them a wry grin. "The turret is based in firepower. You can shoot mindlessly and still destroy your target. I prefer more precise shots, as well a sniper should."

"Sniper?" Both boys stared at each other, wide-eyed. "You were a…?"

Damas gave them a surprised look. "Yes, I was a sniper during the metal head wars. Is that hard to believe?"

"…I guess not." Jak picked up a tongue depressor and set his aim. "You just seem like you'd be closer to the action."

"Heh. I would rather have been on the battlefield," Damas explained. "However, the general consensus was that, as the leader of Haven City, I was too valuable to be on the front lines."

"Wait…you were the leader of Haven City?" Jak's next shot missed by a mile, distracted by the revelation. "You were the one Praxis overthrew?"

Damas nodded as they both gaped at him. "I came to the throne during the Metal Head Wars. I was betrayed by Praxis and banished to the Wasteland. The rest of the story, you know."

Jak swallowed. "So…you fought in the War with Praxis?"

"Of course," Damas said bitterly. "He was one of my most valued military advisors. Which is why I trusted him so much."

Before either of them could reply, Damas glanced up at the windows. "It's getting late. I suppose I won, though you two put up quite the fight." Jak watched as the older man started to pick up all the tongue depressors. Daxter jumped off the bed, grumbling as he went to help. "I assume you'll be out of here soon?"

"Yeah, Ionna said tomorrow I can go." Daxter tossed Jak the bedpan and he tucked it away. "I can stop at the palace if you have a mission for me."

"Do so." Damas put the tongue depressors away and went for a broom. "I'll finish cleaning up here. You two should get some sleep. " He gave a faint smile. "You're becoming quite the warrior, Jak. I would like to keep you alive and healthy."

"Aw, c'mon!" Daxter groaned. "It's barely dark out!"

Jak opened his mouth to protest, too, but Damas held up a hand to silence him. "I will hear no arguments. Rest is the best way to heal your body."

Both boys glanced at each other. Normally, they would argue, but neither of them were foolish enough to start a fight with the king of Spargus. Especially considering the stern look he was giving the two of them. It was reminiscent of Samos from so long ago.

"Fine, fine," Jak said grumpily. He crossed his arms and fell back into the pillow. "Not like I have anything better to do anyway."

Damas laughed gruffly. "Yes, I saw that Ionna put you to work making first aid kits. Those are quite useful out here. Your work is much appreciated."

"Anytime," Daxter said. "Well, okay, not anytime. But anytime we're really bored."

"Shut up, Dax." Jak grinned as his friend curled up on his chest. He pulled the blanket over himself and laid his head down. The building was quiet, with only the sound of Damas' work, the brushing of the broom on the floor. Jak closed his eyes and let himself fall into a blissful sleep.

The voices came back to his dreams, calling for him, but this time they were different. Harsher, more guttural, deep voices, calling him _warrior._

* * *

Ionna was exhausted as she came back into the infirmary, her hair windswept from the desert. Jak and Daxter were both asleep, sprawled out on the bed and snoring loudly. She smiled at them and glanced around.

Everything seemed to be in order. Nothing broken, nothing missing. In fact, she mused, it almost seemed like the place was cleaner than she left it. She was fairly certain she hadn't washed those now-clean jars, nor had she folded and stacked the extra bed sheets. She shucked her sand-encrusted boots off and tossed them in the corner.

As she started to unwind her scarf from around her neck, she noticed a piece of paper on the counter. Swiping it off, she quickly scanned over it.

_No patients. No issues._

She crumpled the note in one hand. She recognized that handwriting, as well as the brusque tone. When she'd called for a Wastelander to relieve her, the last person she'd expected was Damas himself, wondering down from his palace. He was probably bored. She threw the note into the wastebasket, then shook the sand out of her scarf.

Ionna went to the shelves that held the eco jars. If she was going to properly teach Jak, she was going to need a steadier supply of eco. There was the vent in the center of Spargus, she knew, but they would need someplace away from the city to practice. She frowned.

Maps. She needed to break out the maps Onin had given her. It had been years since she had even seen them; were they in the attic? She sighed heavily.

She'd get them tomorrow. Right now, the only thing she wanted to search for was her bed.

* * *

When Jak woke up in the morning, Ionna had set his medicine on the bedside table. He shook Daxter awake and quickly drank it down. When the cup was empty, he started putting his belongings together.

"C'mon, Dax," he grumbled as Daxter dozed off on the pillow. "We can leave today. You can sleep later."

"I wouldn't be in too much of a rush to vanish, child."

Jak glanced back to see Ionna, leaning against the wall, a mug of coffee in her hands.

"I thought you said I could leave once I took the rest of the medicine," Jak said crossly. "I wanna get out of here."

"Yes, but I wanted to speak with you before you go." She gestured to another mug of coffee, hot and ready. "Sit. Let's talk."

Jak eyed her suspiciously, but did as she asked. He pulled up a stool and took a drink of the coffee. It was strong and bitter, much like the teas that Samos used to drink. "What do you want to talk about?"

Ionna sat down next to him and drank her own coffee. "I said before," she began, "that you are a very talented eco channeler, particularly with light eco. I'd like to offer you…an opportunity."

"An opportunity?"

"To learn," she explained. "I can teach you how to control your light eco powers and use them to your full potential."

Jak blinked. "…Why?" he asked suspiciously. "Why are you offering?"

Ionna raised an eyebrow. "To be perfectly honest?" She gestured up. "Because danger is coming, and I think you're the key to staving it off."

Jak had to admit: he appreciated the honesty. "Yeah, I've been told." The echoes of _hero_ and _savior_ sounded in his head. His mood darkened. "But I'm nobody's weapon."

Daxter leapt onto Jak's shoulder, breaking the tension on his friend's face. "Everyone thinks Jak's a _big hero_ ," he teased. "But we all know he wouldn't last a minute without me. I'm the real power behind this duo."

"Even so," Ionna said with a smile. "I've also spoken with Seem. She has kindly offered to provide instruction on controlling dark eco."

"Seem?" As Daxter scrambled up to the counter, his fur disheveled from sleep, he yawned. "What does Face Paint know about dark eco? Besides that it's _eeevvviiilll!_ " He made a mocking face.

Ionna looked surprised. "I thought you knew. Seem is the acolyte of dark eco. She's studied it almost all her life."

"Really?" Jak thought back to all the warnings Seem had given him, the grief for using his darkness, the way she sneered at his powers. He had a hard time imagining her even handling dark eco, let alone channeling it and transforming like he could. "She certainly doesn't act like it."

"Oh, trust me," Ionna said softly. "Seem may not like it, but she's an expert in dark eco." When both Jak and Daxter gave her a confused and curious look, she sighed. "Eco sages are chosen at a young age. The monks used to search through the city, looking for children who showed talent with a particular eco. They would take them and raise them in the monk temple, above the forest. There, they would learn the ways of the monks, the precursors, and the eco they were adept in."

"And Seem didn't like that she was good with dark eco." Jak folded his arms. "I can understand that."

Because he had been through it. Because despite how useful Dark Jak is—the invisibility, the supernatural strength, the sheer durability of his own body—he hated it. Hated the loss of control, the rage, the bloodlust. If he had to choose between dark powers and no powers, well…powerlessness sounded pretty good.

"There is a stigma, even among the monks," Ionna continued. "Many devout monks believe that dark eco is the soul of everything humanity fears and loathes. There are even those who feel that a dark eco sage is a villain sent to destroy us from the inside out."

"And what do you think?" Daxter asked.

Ionna paused, thoughtful. "Hmm…I think monks tend to put a lot of stock in eco and precursors and forget that the most evil men on this planet are just as human as the rest of us."

They sat in silence for a moment, digesting what she had said. Finally, Ionna stood up from her chair and gestured for Jak to follow. "Regardless, Seem _can_ help you. Come."

She led them to the back of the room, then reached up and pulled a ladder down from the ceiling. She took them up into the attic, her footsteps making the wooden floor creak.

It was a dusty, dry room that was filled with old wooden crates. Ionna hauled one over for Jak to sit on, then started opening another one. As she dug through it, she began to explain.

"Most sages can only control their specific type of eco. However, light and dark eco work differently."

Jak watched as she pulled out several thick, worn books. "How?"

Ionna blew dust off of a grey-covered book. "Light eco is the culmination of all four types of eco. As such, in order to fully control it, you have to be able to control the other types: blue, red, yellow, and green."

"What about dark eco, then?" Daxter asked. "Ooh! You gotta be able to control _none_ of 'em!"

Both Jak and Ionna ignored him. "Dark eco requires a certain…mental fortitude in order to use it." Ionna opened the book and flipped through. "Aha. There aren't many accounts of dark eco sages, simply because they are few and far between. However, the last fully trained dark eco sage on record was driven insane by it." She handed the book to Jak, who skimmed the words on it. The story sounded vaguely familiar—mysterious disappearances, collections of dark eco pooled together, Precursor machinery used to flood the world with dark eco—

Oh.

He flipped the page and saw a crude mural, similar to those in the monk temple and Mar's tomb. This one showed two figures, shrouded in darkness, hovering above two figures of light.

"The story goes, when the dark eco sage tried to remake the world in darkness, the light eco sage stopped him. However, after that, there has never been another fully recognized sage—in light nor dark eco."

"Is this…accurate?" Jak asked hesitantly. He caught Daxter's eye, who shrugged. "I mean…it sounds kind of…fairy-tale-ish."

"Well, history is written by those who remain." She took the book back from him. "And it's a very, very old story. I, personally, think it was…exaggerated a bit. But the lesson remains the same."

She set the book aside. "Controlling, or even channeling, dark eco is incredibly dangerous. Exposure to dark eco can turn a person mad. That's why the monks are very, very wary of anyone with an affinity for dark eco. It has a very powerful influence."

Jak flexed his hands, imagining the claws that came out sometimes when he was angry. "Yeah. I know."

"Seem hasn't spent her time on practicing different techniques or channeling eco," Ionna continued. "She spends a large chunk of her time meditating, practicing the art of self-restraint and understanding how the eco affects her mind."

"And _that_ helps her with dark eco?" Daxter leaned forward on Jak's shoulder. "Sounds to me like somebody's afraid of the dark stuff, eh, Jak?"

Ionna pondered this. Finally, she said, "Sometimes, the thing we hate most is what we hate about ourselves. Seem has long since disliked her natural talent for dark eco. Perhaps you're right and it does scare her." She exhaled softly. "Of course, I don't often see Seem in a murderous bloodlust, so it sounds like she's doing something right."

Jak cracked a grim smile. "So, you think Seem can help me control my dark powers?"

Ionna shrugged. "That's the idea." She handed him another book. "And I can help you control your light."

He opened the book to a random page and saw sketches of a plain figure, with no face, going through various poses. Some looked familiar, almost like battle stances.

"That's the book of red eco," Ionna explained. "It was used by the monks to train the red eco sage and their acolytes."

Now he saw why it looked familiar: those _were_ battle stances. "Are there other books like this?"

She nodded. "For blue, yellow, and green. Those four books are the basis for the light eco techniques I've learned."

"…I have pretty good control over the light part," Jak told her. "It's the dark that I struggle with."

"Don't we all," she murmured. She sighed and continued, "As I said, it's not necessarily to gain _control_. You have a fairly good handle on the power light eco gives you, but there are no doubt a thousand doors you've left unopened. I can help you unlock them."

She folded her hands and smiled placidly at him. "You can, of course, say no. I won't take it personally."

Jak glanced at Daxter, who shrugged back. "What do you think, Dax?" he asked. "Worth it?"

"I dunno. Can't hurt, can it?"

Jak had to agree. Maybe he'd get something good out of all this. "Alright," he told Ionna. "Let's do it."

* * *

Ionna gave him directions to meet her the next day at dawn, at the entrance to Spargus, then told him he could leave. She warned him that if he felt any sort of nausea or dizziness, he should return to the infirmary.

"And you," she barked at Daxter, "make sure he doesn't overexert himself. You have my permission to twist his ear if he isn't resting enough."

Jak rolled his eyes, but Daxter gave her a salute. "You got it, Nurse!"

She sent them on their way, waving them out the door, into the desert morning. Jak shaded his eyes from the bright sun and started towards the palace.

"So," Daxter said conversationally. "Do you really believe in all this precursor crap about you being a hero?"

Jak's boots pushed into the coarse sand as he went through Spargus. Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably, he said, "I don't really know, Dax. I've…been having these dreams…but dreams are just dreams. What do you think?"

Daxter shrugged. "Well…you are pretty heroic. You saved the world from the Gol and Maia, then you saved Haven City. If I was a betting man, I'd put my money on you."

"I guess." They had reached the palace. Jak stepped onto the familiar elevator and it rumbled to life, taking him up. "But what if I don't want to be a hero?"

"Well," Daxter said slowly, "like she said, you have a choice. But…and hear me out on this…maybe you _are_ a hero, Jak. Maybe that's just who you are."

As they came into view of the throne room, Jak sighed and closed his eyes. "I guess we'll just have to find out."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am! Hello again!
> 
> I replayed Jak 3 recently, and I felt like there were a lot of scenes missing. I really wished they'd talked more about how Jak decided to go back to Haven, when he explicitly said he didn't want to. I feel like that was a choice he struggled with.

In the morning sun, the Spargus palace was bathed in beautiful golden light that sparkled on the streaming water. The torches weren't lit this morning; normally, Damas would light them as his first duty of the day.

This morning was different. Today, Damas was standing behind the throne, staring out the huge window that overlooked the desert. He fiddled with the flint his hand, absent-mindedly turning the stone in his fingers.

He was tired. His night had been plagued by dreams—nightmares, really—that kept him awake at night. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

Dreams of Mar. His toddler son, splashing his feet in the water, giggling as he played. Shaking the sand from his spiky blond hair after a short trip into the desert. Chasing the kangarats and crocadogs around the city in efforts to catch a pet.

But those dreams, such bittersweet memories, had devolved into night terrors. Mar had disappeared, and no matter how much Damas screamed for his son, there was nothing but swirling darkness.

He had almost been glad when the dawn came, despite the fact that his head hurt from lack of sleep.

The elevator rumbled to life behind Damas and he turned around. Quickly shoving all thoughts of his son aside, he went to one of the dead torches and struck the flint. It sparked and lit up, burning with a ferocity that reminded him to focus on the present.

By the time Jak and Daxter stepped off the elevator, Damas was lighting the last torch. He glanced over at the pair.

Jak looked troubled, or at least, distracted. More surprising than that, _Daxter_ was looking a little thoughtful, too. Damas smiled as he greeted them with a familiar Wastelander salute.

"Damas." Jak stepped towards him, while Daxter leapt off his shoulder into the pool. "Got any missions for me?"

Damas chuckled. "I see you tire of being cared for. Did Ionna give you any restrictions?"

Jak's jaw twitched. "Nope."

Daxter threw himself out of the water with a splash. "She said not to overexert yourself!" he called out. His tone was reminiscent of the child who used to tattle on Jak for poking wumpbee nests. "Don't listen to him, Your Highness of the Barren Wasteland. He's supposed to take it easy."

Jak glared at him. "I'm fine," he snarled. "I can do whatever you need me to."

"Good, because I have something that I think only you can do." He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, Jak , do you still have that handy board you were telling me about?"

Jak blinked as Daxter shook the water out of his fur and climbed back onto his shoulder. "My JetBoard? Yeah, I have it."

Damas smiled. "Excellent. Come with me."

Damas led them out into Spargus, where he gestured above them, at the buildings that towered above them.

The water pipes, he explained, wound their way up and around the walls of the stone buildings. Normally, minor repairs could be done with ladders and strong climbers, but there were always a few places that were hard to reach.

Until now, Damas told him. Jak, with his JetBoard, could surely find a way to reach some of the higher spots that needed repairing.

"They only need spot welded," he said to the delighted boys. "Just as a preventative measure. The last thing we need to worry about is losing water pressure. Do you think you can handle it?"

"You bet." Jak already had his JetBoard in his hand. "This is what I was born for."

Damas smiled as he and Daxter hopped onto the JetBoard. "Then get to it, warrior."

* * *

When the sun set over Spargus, it really was a pretty sight. Much better than Haven City, both Jak and Daxter agreed. But not as pretty as in Sandover.

It had taken all day, but Jak had grinded his way around the city of Spargus, balancing and leaping on pipes before stopping to fix the worn spots. Daxter had been the real worker, squeezing into small holes and gaps between buildings.

They had stopped at the very top of the arena, sitting on the roof above Spargus, looking out over the ocean. Sitting there, eating their way through some dried fruit, Jak's communicator beeped again.

_"Jak, it's Ashelin. I know you can hear me. Pick up, it's important."_

"This is the third time in an hour," Daxter observed. "She seems pretty desperate to get ahold of you."

"I guess." Jak tossed a raisin up and caught it in his mouth. Chewing, he mumbled, "I'm busy, though. She can wait."

"Ha!" Daxter snatched a peach slice up. "If you ask me, she can wait forever. If she needed you so bad, she shouldn't have banished you!"

"She let me back in," Jak said, though there was a bitterness coloring his voice. "She overrode the council after we came through the catacombs."

"Yeah, and that's even worse!" Daxter griped. "She could've done that months ago, when you first got thrown out here. Instead, she waits until you almost _die of dehydration—!_ "

"That's enough, Dax." Jak's voice was soft, but firm. "She did her best."

"Yeah, well, her best wasn't very good…" Daxter viciously bit into the peach. "Anyway, I think you should leave her hanging for a while. Let her twist in the wind for a bit."

Jak was silent, thinking. As much as the idea appealed to him—after all, Ashelin had thrown him out to die—he knew he'd eventually have to go back to Haven to help. As if to remind him, the communicator beeped again.

_"Jak, listen. I…Haven really…we could really use your help. I don't know if you're hanging out in the desert with Damas, but…remember that Haven is still your home."_

At this, Daxter glared at the communicator. "Then why'd they throw us out?" he snapped.

Jak shushed him, but as he stowed the communicator away, he couldn't help agreeing. Staring back out at the desert sunset, he sighed and took another bite of fruit. "Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Daxter agreed, leaning back on his hands. "Nothing like this in Haven."

Jak ignored Ashelin's messages for the rest of the night; eventually, she gave up.

_"Fine, Jak. I get it. You're not at my beck and call. Just…remember that Haven needs you. Your friends need you. I need you."_

Daxter rolled his eyes at that message, but Jak just shut the communicator off and went to sleep. He didn't want to worry about Haven City at the moment. He tried to focus on the sounds of Spargus: hollow wind and grains of sand slicing against the stone.

The weird dreams had decided to cool their jets, mercifully. He didn't dream of anything that night, curled up in one of the bunks in the arena. It was nothing but the peaceful bliss of unconsciousness until he woke up.

The boys met Ionna at the entrance of Spargus the next morning, just before dawn. The city was practically empty at this point, with only a few sleepy-eyed merchants setting up their tarps. The only sounds he could hear was the ocean crashing on the rocks and the wind gently blowing through the sand. When they reached the garage, Kleiver was nowhere to be found, but Ionna was waiting near the Dune Hopper.

"Are you ready?" When Jak replied affirmative, she nodded. "Good. We'll be there for a few hours, so fill your canteen before we leave. I've brought some food for us as well."

"Are we going to the Monk Temple?" Jak went to the spigot to do as she said.

Ionna shook her head. "Too far away, and not enough space to make mistakes. There are some caves off near the lake that have a light eco vent. We'll go there."

Ionna pulled herself into the driver's seat and motioned for Jak to climb into the passenger's side. He did so, making sure Daxter was secure on his shoulder. They both pulled their scarves over their mouths and set off into the desert.

* * *

The caves Ionna drove them too were just outside the Marauder compound. There were worn stone carvings around them: symbols for eco, the Seal of Mar, Precursor murals. Jak had seen them in his travels, but never stopped to look at them closely.

They got out of the Dune Hopper and Ionna led the two boys into the caves. It was dimly lit with the same kind of torch lights that were in the monk temple. There were a few jars of dried fruit and cisterns around, placed against the back wall to keep them from the sands outside. In the middle of the cave, there was also an open eco vent, letting out a plume of white gas.

Jak glanced around as he set his bag down. "What is this place?"

"The tunnels down that way used to lead to the monk temple," Ionna explained, gesturing. "Unfortunately, it collapsed a long time ago, but the cave still has an eco pipe running through it. Right now, it's just used as a rest stop for the Wastelanders."

Ionna was unstrapping her rifle, so Jak followed suit with the morph gun. Daxter hopped off Jak's shoulder and started stretching out on a rock.

"Now," Ionna said briskly, "replenish your supply of eco and let's begin."

Ionna walked through the eco vent, allowing the light eco to swirl into her body; Jak did the same, feeling the familiar warmth created by the eco.

"Very good. Now, channeling eco requires precision control over your body." Ionna bent down and started unlacing her boots. "Go on, get barefoot. It'll help with the channeling."

Jak hesitated. He'd learned very early into his stay in Spargus that running around in the desert sand led to blistered and sore feet.

"Ha!" Damas had laughed as Jak sat in the throne room, rubbing his red feet and grimacing. "Usually, this lesson is learned in childhood. Why did you even take your shoes off in the first place?"

Jak had just shrugged, too embarrassed to admit that he had just been curious about feeling the sand between his toes. And though he learned his lesson about the course, scorching sand, he still, every once in a while, had an urge to strip off his boots and feel it again.

"Jak. Shoes off."

Jak snapped back to reality. Ionna was watching him expectantly. Slowly, he reached down and unbuckled his boots. Daxter began to whistle a swanky tune in time to his movements and Jak glared at him. Ionna looked mildly amused.

He set the boots aside, next to Ionna's own tan ones. The stone ground was, surprisingly, cool to the touch, shaded from the sun. On Ionna's direction, Jak stood across and facing her.

"Take a deep breath." In tandem, they inhaled. "Good. Relax your muscles and close your eyes." Jak did as she said. She led him through a variety of exercises: touching his toes, stretching his arms above his head, twisting his neck around. Finally, she said, "Alright. Loose enough, I suppose."

"Loose enough for what?" Jak asked.

"Center yourself on the light eco, just as if you were channeling it. But instead of trying to control where it goes, just…let it flow."

Jak did as she said. He found the pool of eco inside himself and pulled it to the surface. The light shined around him. Instead of doing something with it, he instead just let it…exist inside him. He exhaled slowly before Ionna said, "Good. Let it go."

Light eco dissipated around him, leaving him with the familiar light-headedness that came on after he switched between his forms. Ionna nodded, satisfied.

"Your channeling abilities are astounding. Tell me, Jak, did you ever receive formal training from any of the monks?"

"No." He stretched his arms above his head. "Well, not really. The green sage, Samos, was the one who taught me how to channel, but I mostly learned the little things on my own." He shrugged. "Then, when I started channeling dark eco, one of those weird Precursor oracles showed me all the moves I know."

Ionna's eyes widened. "The Precursors spoke?" she asked harshly. Jak stiffened at her tone. "One of the idols actually spoke to you?"

"Well…yeah. They've always done it." Her jaw dropped and Jak shifted uncomfortably. "Ever since I was a kid. That's how I got my light powers." She was staring at him in a stunned silence, the first time he'd seen her speechless. "What's the matter?"

Ionna took a moment to compose herself. "The Precursor idols," she explained, "are said to only speak to the Precursor monks. There's only one person who wasn't a monk that the idols spoke to, ever."

"Really? Who?"

"Mar." Ionna folded her hands together. "The fact that the idols spoke to you only cements my theory. You _are_ the one who is destined to save us."

"No pressure," Daxter said, grinning. Jak frowned, annoyed.

"Look," he said, "I don't buy into all that crap. Maybe a long time ago, I might've believed it, but…" He shrugged. "I'm not a hero. Not anymore."

"…" Ionna watched him for a moment, then sighed. "Child. You seem to think that heroism is something one is born with, rather than something that is learned."

"Yeah? Well, the Precursors disagree with you there. I've been told I'm a great hero since…well, for a long time," he grumbled.

Ionna closed her eyes and sighed. "The Precursors can be wrong."

It was an odd statement, Jak thought. It rang hollow compared to everything he'd grown up hearing. Samos had extolled the powers of the great Precursors, while Damas and Sig behaved as if they were almighty gods. He'd never heard anyone speak to them with disrespect.

Well, with one exception.

"Ha! Ain't that the truth!" Daxter flipped off the rock he was on and padded over to Jak. "You know, I don't think the Precursors are all they're cracked up to be."

"They are what they are," Ionna said evenly. "Remember, above all else, the Precursors' greatest gift to mankind was free will. You _chose_ to behave like a hero, Jak, and you can _choose_ to ignore everything the Precursors say."

Jak shifted on his feet, uncomfortable. "Look, can we keep going? Not that this isn't really interesting, but…I don't really want to talk about being a hero or…whatever else."

Ionna nodded. "Of course, that's why we're here. Now, face the eco vent."

Jak did as he was told. Ionna reached out and spun her hand in a circle. The eco obeyed, swirling into a shining white vortex, then solidifying into a sparkling white crystal. She picked out of the air and handed it to Jak.

"Wow," he whispered, marveling at the crystal in his hand.

"That's a much more advanced technique," Ionna explained. "We'll get there, but you need to learn the basics first."

"Right." Jak nodded. "So, what first?"

Ionna reached out and spun her hand again. The eco swirled into a vortex, then Ionna absorbed it. "You try," she said. "Remember, let the eco flow. You must not force it."

Jak steadied his stance and exhaled. "Okay. Here goes." He reached his hand out and concentrated.

Meanwhile, Ionna watched and listened.

* * *

By the time an hour had passed, Jak was exhausted. Channeling eco, as it turned out, was a lot easier than controlling it. He sat down, wiping his forehead off.

Ionna sat beside him. "Good job," she complimented. "You're getting the hang of it."

"I don't feel like I did much at all," Jak complained. Indeed, in the hour that had gone by, he had only managed to get the eco to follow his commands once. Most of the time, the eco just zoomed right towards him automatically. It wasn't until the last try that he had managed to make the eco spin in a weak little tornado. "I usually don't have to work that hard."

"Don't be discouraged. It takes the acolytes many years to master the unique nature of eco." She smiled gently at him. "You're doing very well, Jak."  
"...Am I?" he asked. He took a drink from his canteen, then passed it to Daxter. "Everyone is saying that I'm some great hero and I'm supposed to do these awesome things. But…I can't even get the stupid eco to do what I want."

"You must have patience, child," she soothed. "It takes years for babies to learn to walk and talk; how can you be expected to learn this in just a day?" She shrugged. "Even if you decide to be a hero, you can't do the impossible."

"…You're really big on this whole 'deciding' to be a hero thing," Daxter said. He was pulling out all the dried cherries from the food they had brought. "How come?"

Ionna paused for a moment, thinking. "I suppose," she said slowly, "it's because I was never given the same opportunity. I've been marked as the light eco sage since I was a toddler. My destiny was chosen for me. It wasn't until _I_ made the choice, until _I_ decided not to become a sage, that I fully appreciated the power of autonomy." She gave Jak a meaningful look. "I understand how hard it is to forced into a role you never chose."

With that, Ionna stood up and started for the Dune Hopper. "It's nearly noon. We'd best get going."

* * *

As Jak went to bed that night, he hesitated. The communicator from Haven had been turned off since the previous night. He wasn't sure if he wanted to turn it back on.

"Dax?" The ottsel's ears perked up. He was lying on the pillow, eyes closed. "Do you think I should go back go Haven?"

"I dunno," Daxter groaned. "Geez, Jak, if the Precursors don't know, how should I?"

Jak sighed, then set the communicator aside, still off. As he curled up into bed, he sighed and tried not to think about his previous home, being torn apart by metal heads and rogue KG bots.

Choice were great and all, he thought as he drifted to sleep. But you had to be ready to face the consequences of those actions.


End file.
